Quigley's Quagmire
by Outlaw Volunteer
Summary: Quigley Quagmire: wisecracking, adventurous cartographer, boring, predictable life. At first he's harassing his siblings, the next thing he knows, his mother is dragging him toward a trap door under the library rug. After a long, tense wait, he decides to investigate, but the door won't budge. All alone, there's only one thing he can do: find a way out and reunite with his family.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** **Dear reader, there are many things in this world that are not meant for young eyes, such as murder, arson, and adult swim. This, however, is not meant for** ** _any_** **eyes other than my own, for it is my sole occupation to document what had happened to Quigley Quagmire ever since the Quagmire fire. You still have the chance to click out of this word document and preserve your sanity. I, however, shall forever remain sleep-deprived and insane. It's not too late to read about what a fox says rather than death, darkness, and despair… With all due respect, Outlaw Volunteer.**

 **PS: Sorry for the "re-do" (as of July 2017). I really wanted to make Quigley the wiseass instead of Duncan this time. I got a feeling it'll be a** ** _lot_** **more interesting than the original way. ;) Hope you enjoy nonetheless! Thanks to** ** _all_** **of my awesome reviewers for the feedback on the original version! I can't get better unless I know what I'm doing right...or wrong...or, y'know.**

 **Disclaimer:** **Dude, why're there lawyers on my doorstep? I told you, me no own ASOUE! Y u no listen to me?!**

 _ **WARNING!**_ ** _RATED T FOR: LANGUAGE, SUGGESTIVE CONTENT, AND VIOLENCE_**

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 ** _Quigley's Quagmire_**

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Chapter 1  
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"Ugh…" I groaned, slamming my pencil down on my desk and cradling my head in my hands, running my fingers through my short dark hair. God, this map was taking _forever_! I'd been charting the different trails in the Mortmain Mountains in my notebook ever since Mother and Father told us about taking us on a vacation there this fall. Truth be told, I was _stoked_. So many caves to explore, so many sights to see… Isadora was pretty excited, too. Duncan? Ha! He's afraid of, like, _everything_ outside the house: sports, pranks, girls, you name it, he's afraid of it. Me? I ain't afraid of _anything_. I'm _always_ causing trouble: at home, school, anywhere. Anytime. No moment in _my_ life was boring.

Wait a minute…

I lifted my head and listened. Silence. Hang on a minute…I gotta go make the house chaotic again. I stuffed my notebook and pencil in my burgundy sweatshirt pocket and headed out of my room, looking around for a target. Now that I think about it, the house wasn't even chaotic _once_ today. Wow…I was slipping. Then again, I was up all night last night working on that map. Only explanation I can think of as to why today was so tranquil. Either way, I wouldn't have it.

"Ugh, what rhymes with Ruben?" I heard Isadora groan.

A light-bulb lit up over my head and that trademark, devilish grin of mine slowly started spreading across my face. _Perfect._ I tip-toed in her room as ninja-like as I could, preparing myself. There she was, sitting at her desk like usual, her back to me, her head resting on her hand in frustration. Sweet! She was in _complete_ writer's-block mode, too focused on her work to even hear me creeping up behind her.

"Ruben…Ruben…" Isadora mused. "Lubing?" Here, I fought not to laugh hysterically. …Hey, I'm thirteen, don't look at me like that! "No…tubing?" She was quiet for a moment. "Ugh…don't tell me I'm going to have to reword the whole thi––– _Quigley!_ "

Snickering, I bolted out of her room and down the hall with my prize. "Write 'lubing'! That's a good rhyme!" I hollered over my shoulder.

Isadora thundered after me like a runaway freight train, her face beet-red from embarrassment. I ducked into my room and leaped up onto my bed, my sister lunging up after me. " _Quigley! Give it back!_ " she roared in my face, her hands balled into fists, fire raging in her eyes.

I grinned at her futile attempts to jump up and grab her notebook out of my hand. "Izzy and Ruben sitting in a tree, l-u-b-e-i-n-g," I sang loudly.

"Lubing doesn't have an 'e' in it, genius!" Isadora yelled.

"It does in my song," I replied simply.

"What's going on in here?" an irritated voice demanded.

Isadora and I looked to find Duncan standing in my doorway, trying to solve the puzzle of her frustration.

"Duncan, he did it _again_!" Isadora whined angrily.

Duncan's eyes flickered as they fell on me. Great…she'd brought out the big guns. Ha…can't believe I used 'Duncan' and 'big guns' in the same sentence. It's like saying 'Quigley' and 'behave' in the same sentence. Y'know, an oxymoron?

"Give it back, Quigley," Duncan ordered authoritatively, holding out his hand, trying to imitate Dad's famous scowl.

"I was giving her ideas," I protested, trying my best to look innocent.

"No you weren't!" Isadora shot back.

"I said write 'lubing'!" I repeated, louder this time.

Isadora flushed. "I'm _not_ writing 'lubing'!"

"Don't be such a prude, Izzy. Plenty of poets wrote about sex," I pointed out.

"Name one!" she challenged hotly, planting her hands on her hips.

"Ovid, Catullus, Sappho–––"

"I said one!" she snapped defensively.

I paused. "Ovid, Catullus, Sappho–––"

Isadora growled loudly, rolling her eyes. "Well, _I_ don't write about…you know…" she grumbled, crossing her arms.

"What, sex?" I asked.

"Quigley!" Isadora hissed.

"What? Then say sex!"

"There's more to life than sex, you moron!"

"Of course there is. You can't forget about beer! _Gah-owww!_ " A violent burning flared up between my legs and I fell to my bed, dropping Isadora's notebook.

"Grow up, Quigley!" Duncan barked, snatching it before I caught my breath.

"You're the one who punched me in the crotch––– _you_ grow up!" I squeaked, cringing as he handed my prize back to Isadora.

Just then, there was a sound of shattering glass, followed by nine more, almost in a rhythmic pattern.

"Great, _now_ what'd you do?" Duncan scowled down at me.

"Well, sorry, I have to breathe in order to live!" I retorted.

"Not _that_. The glass breaking!"

"What? Glass breaking?" Mustering up what little strength I had left in me, I sat up and looked around. I don't recall setting up my automatic baseball pitcher today. I used it yesterday before Mother and Father got home from Peru, yeah, but I made sure to turn it off and pack it in the garage. And I didn't set up any other homemade pranks… Sure, Mother and Father were wild-cards (where do you think I get it from?), but I highly doubted they were bored enough to break their own mansion's windows, especially with Dad's broken leg.

"Don't play dumb with me," Duncan snarled, crossing his arms. "What'd you do _this_ time?"

Puzzled, I got up from my bed slowly and staggered over to the doorway, looking around for clues. "Duncan, I swear, it wasn't me this time," I protested seriously, peeking down the hall. "The notebook, yeah, the glass breaking, no."

Duncan rolled his eyes with an irritated growl. "The five of us are the only ones here," he pointed out, he and Isadora following me into the hallway. "Isadora and I didn't do it, and Mother and Father aren't dumb enough to randomly break windows. Guess who that leaves? Oh yeah, _you_."

"It wasn't me!" I snapped furiously. _God_ , Duncan, are you deaf? Idiot! "I told you, the only thing I did today was take Izzy's notebook, nothing else!"

Suddenly, a couple of thick black disks crashed through my window and the far hallway window, startling us. We shared a confused glance, not knowing what to do, then Duncan strode down to the disks in the hallway, Isadora following after him. He picked one up and examined every angle of it closely, then, before long, disks crashed through his and Isadora's bedroom windows and the hallway window closest to me. Duncan glared at me mercilessly. "Quigley, this isn't funny!" he screamed, holding the disk up for me to see.

"If it was me, Donuts, I wouldn't have smashed my own window!" I told him heatedly.

"Yeah you would! Only to make it look like you didn't do it! I'm not stupid!"

" _It wasn't me!_ " I yelled at the top of my lungs, practically foaming at the mouth. _God_ I wanted to strangle him right now!

"He's telling the truth," Isadora piped up after a minute, and Duncan looked at her incredulously. "He always grins when he's does something and he always owns what he's done. You know that."

Duncan sighed heavily, tossing the disk aside. For once, he and Izzy being thicker than thieves was actually a good thing: he'd listen to _anything_ she'd say. "Well, if it wasn't him, us, or Mother and Father, then who's throwing disks through our windows, the Ghost of Christmas Past?" he asked sarcastically.

"I don't know," Isadora admitted with a shrug before heading back down the hall to where I was standing. "But let's go tell Mother and Father about it."

As I watched Duncan nod and follow her, something putrid wafted into my nose. Oh my… _God_ what was that smell?! I wrinkled my nose, racking my brain for what could _possibly_ be stinkier than _my_ stink bombs. It smelled like…like…ugh, I don't know…rotten eggs? Duncan's attitude right about now?

Isadora stopped in her tracks, sniffing. "Is that…sulfur?" she wondered, looking around at Duncan.

I sniffed again. Come to think of it, yeah, sulfur _did_ smell like rotten eggs. …Wait a minute, sulfur? What's _sulfur_ doing in our house? Not even _I_ could get my hands on sulfur for a prank. Where'd it come from? I didn't smell it earlier. I looked around. I didn't smell sulfur until _after_ those things crashed through my window. Then, it hit me. Those _disks_ were sulfur…or emitting sulfur, one of the two. The floor under my feet sunk ever-so-slightly, and I looked down. What the–––? _What's_ going on?!

Suddenly, there was a blinding flash and a colossal explosion so intense it knocked me off my feet onto the floor, my ears ringing. I opened my eyes and blinked around at my surround––– _OH MY GOD! FIRE! FIRE! EVERYWHERE!_ My eyes widened as I scrambled to my feet, my heart racing in panic. " _Duncan! Isadora!_ " I hollered over the roaring of the eight foot flames.

" _Quigley!_ " came both of their frantic screams.

There they were, on the other side of Hell's Wall, but the heat was so unbearable, the fire was so thick that I was unable to run through it without burning alive. But, I couldn't just _leave_ my siblings here! Believe me, I was a jerk, but I wasn't _that_ kind of jerk. I have morals. I stood there numbly, my face and hair soaked with sweat, anxiously looking for a way around to save them, but everywhere I looked was being consumed by the gluttonous, raging inferno. " _Donuts, Izzy! Stick together, stay here, and lay down–––I'll find a way around to save you guys!_ "

" _Hurry!_ " Isadora shrieked, and my heart sank. I could hear the fear in her voice, see the tears racing down her face… The Doomsday Clock beginning its countdown in my head, I whirled around and booked it to the stairs. I looked over the banister for any sign of help, but to my horror, the whole first floor had become the sun's surface. Ugh…I can feel the heat up here… So much heat… My vision started to blur, my lungs began to cook…

"Oh thank God you're okay!" a tall, aged version of my sister breathed suddenly as she seized my wrist tightly and lead me downstairs. "C'mon!"

"Mother!" I cried through my queasiness. "Wait, you forgot Duncan and Izzy!" I looked up at the hallway they were trapped in worriedly. "They're still up there! In the same hall I was!"

"Don't worry, we'll get 'em. _Ray, Duncan and Isadora are upstairs!_ " Mother shouted as loud as she could. " _I got Quigley!_ "

" _I'm on it!_ " came Dad's deep, gravelly reply as he hobbled as fast as he could with his broken leg up the stairs.

We scampered as quickly as we could across the fiery floor, the flames lapping our legs hungrily. Already I could feel my shoe soles begin to melt. "Mother, what's going on?" I asked. "I smelled sulfur upstairs and before I knew it the whole second floor just exploded into fire!"

"Just a disagreement with some old coworkers of ours," Mother replied after bashing the library door open with her foot.

"A disagreement?" I repeated, my eyebrows rising. "You guys _torch_ each others houses after you disagree?!"

" _They_ do, not us," she clarified as she drug me to the center of the room and flung aside the exquisite rug.

What the–––? A trap door…? We had a trap door this _whole_ time?! How come _I_ never knew about it? Talk about a killer spot for rainy-day hide-and-seek!

She opened the door, the hinges squealing from a lack of oil, and set a piece of thick brass metal in my hand. "Quigley, listen to me," she began, gripping my shoulders and looking me straight in the eye. "I want you to wait down there for all of us, alright?"

"Uh…okay," I said awkwardly, my gut telling me to just go with the flow this once.

"Your father's emergency backpack of supplies should be down there as well," Mother told me as part of the ceiling fell to the floor behind her, crushing the life out of the only desk in the room. "Hold on to that piece of our spyglass, you'll need it. And if something happens, God forbid, take his backpack and keep looking around down there until you find a sign that says 'Montgomery'. He's a good friend of ours and he'll take good care of you." She planted a kiss on my forehead and helped me onto the metal ladder descending into a sewer-looking basement.

I hopped off the ladder onto the wet brick floor and stared up at her.

"Be safe, I love you, and we'll be right back," Mother said with a comforting smile, then she shut the door.

"I love you too!" I called back, hearing her race across the floor back to the foyer.

I looked to find Father's white backpack leaning against the brick wall by the ladder. With one final glance up at the trap door, which had a peculiar-looking eye carved in it, I headed over to the wall and flopped down on the ground beside it.

Now, I wait.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** **Thanks so much to the awesome** _BookProtector_ **,** _ProdigyGamingYT_ **,** _Thegirlintheboat_ **,** **and** _baymaxpikachu619_ **or reviewing! You guys rock! ;) \m/**

 _BookProtector_ _\- Thanks :) The Quagmires are my favorite characters. Nobody ever gives 'em credit :( I wish he'd write a series about_ them _._

 _ProdigyGamingYT_ _-_

 _Dear Reader,_

 _I commend you for reading my research, and I'm more than relieved to find that my fellow associates deem it "palatable" enough to swallow. It_ is _grim research indeed, and it is a flavor that not many can stomach, especially the general public. I have lost count of how many sleepless nights have made me their victim, and I fear the number will only keep growing from here. I regret to inform you this, but I must press onward - the story of Quigley Quagmire must be told, and I will not rest until my research is complete. I will forever remain sleep-deprived and insane, but you, thankfully, are not bound and tied to the same fate as I. There is still hope for you. Run. Don't look back. And don't forget to write me when it's safe - I fear for yours and D's safety._

 _The world is quiet here…for now,_

 _~Outlaw Volunteer_

 _Thegirlintheboat_ _\- Thanks, doll! :) I originally wrote him as shy, but looking at my other fics I thought, nah, I'll make him the wiseass in this one too, just like all my other ones. And if you'd like, I still have the original chapters if you really want to read them. I'll have to private message them to you, but I'll be more than glad to send them your way if you're interested. ;)_

 _baymaxpikachu619_ _\- Thanks! I'm glad you think so :) I personally like this version a lot better. PS: I like your screen name. I love Baymax, he's so frickin' adorable. ^_^_

 **Disclaimer:** **Me no own ASOUE. So jelly right now. :/**

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With a tired moan, I sat up and looked around, my body heavy and aching like crazy. What the–––? Where am I? I blinked at my surroundings, hoping to find some kind of clue. Under my right arm was a white backpack, and next to that white backpack was a metal ladder leading up to a trap door in the ceiling. Suddenly, the Briny Beach fog in my head cleared and everything came rushing back to me. I took Izzy's notebook and got in a fight with Duncan…our mansion exploded into flames…and Mother told me to wait down here until they got back…

I looked around again. As far as my eyes could see were pipe-like hallways made entirely out of brick and stone, the puddles on the floor glistening in the light of the storm lights bolted to the walls. Wow…this was a weird basement. But hey, leave it to my parents to be unconventional. …Wait a minute…this wasn't a basement… This was a tunnel! A series of them.

Intrigued, I stood up and stretched. We had _tunnels_ under our mansion this whole time?! Why? How come _we_ never knew about them? Mother and Father had a car, and all of us were perfectly capable of walking, why did we have tunnels under our mansion? Sure, our parents loved being different than everyone else, but this, I think they really took the cake for creativity this time.

Speaking of Mother and Father…

"Mother? Father?" I called, craning my neck to look down the tunnels for any sign of them.

The only thing that responded was my echo.

"Donuts? Isadora?"

Echo.

Okay, okay, relax, I told myself. They're probably at Montgomery's house. …But, if they were at Montgomery's house, why would they leave me here? That isn't like Mother and Father, not at all. They'd do _anything_ to make sure all five of us stuck together. They'd _never_ dream of leaving one of us behind, no matter _what_ happened.

Suddenly, my heart tightened. Oh no… I climbed up the ladder and pushed on the trap door. It wouldn't budge. I pushed harder. Nothing. Mustering up all my remaining strength, I pushed as hard as I could. It still refused to open.

" _Hey!_ " I hollered at the top of my lungs, pounding on the door. " _Lemme out! The door's stuck!_ "

Silence answered my call.

" _Mother? Father?_ " I tried again. " _Anybody? …Hello?!_ "

Nothing.

My heart began to race as I gawked up at the trap door, horrified. Oh no…oh _God_ no! I looked down at the ground, my mind becoming numb. Not only was I all alone, but I was _trapped_ down here. Unable to climb back out and look for them. I shook my head in disbelief, fighting not to panic. Oh God…oh God, what do I do? What do I do?! Easy, Quigley! Think! Breathe, and think. I closed my eyes and thought for a moment, trying to remember what Mother told me.

My eyes flashed open. Montgomery.

I climbed back down the ladder and swung Father's backpack over my shoulder. I looked up at the trap door one last time, the peculiar eye carved in it staring back at me, then looked both ways down the tunnel, pondering which way would lead me to Montgomery's house. Man…if only I had a map. Well, guess I'll have to find it the cartographer way: adventure.

I took a right and began walking. Normally, I _love_ adventure, but not at the expense of my family being in danger. I strode down the tunnel, my heart thumping against my chest again. …No, I'm not _afraid_ , just a little surprised at what today had to offer, that's all. A little startled. Yeah… I came up to a three-way intersection and stopped again, pondering. Just then, something on the wall caught my eye. Bolted in the stone were a couple signs in the shapes of arrows, all of them pointing right. It kind of looked like this:

 **Baudelaire** **  
** **Snicket** **  
** **Anwhistle** **  
** **Montgomery**  
 **Squalor**

My face scrunched in wonder. To my relief I found Montgomery (and with the arrows I should be able to find his house), but who were these other people? I take it they had tunnels under their houses, too? Of course. Why would they put signs on the wall if they had no tunnels under their house? Seemed kind of pointless. I shrugged and took a right.

…God, how long _were_ these tunnels, citywide? Nationwide? _World_ wide? I've been walking for _hours_ …or, at least it _felt_ like hours. I don't know, I don't wear a watch. I'm not a nerd. Just when I was about to lose my sanity, a metal ladder came into view. I rolled my eyes and groaned. I'd seen many ladders since I'd started walking, but none of them said 'Montgomery'. I highly doubted _this_ one would either. But as I got closer, I realized I was wrong. My persistence had paid off. Bolted on the wall next to the ladder was an arrow shaped sign pointing upward that said 'Montgomery'. My heart quickened with relief. Oh thank God! I thought I'd _never_ find his place. I scrambled up it to the trap door–––hey! This door had a peculiar eye carved in it, too! In fact, _every_ door I came across down here had that exact same eye on it. I take it…this was a symbol of significant importance? After all, Mother and Father (and my teachers in school, in fact) said that if something is repeated, take notice–––it's important.

I unlocked the trap door and pushed it open. What the–––? Why's it so dark in–––oh. It's under a rug, too. Never mind. I crawled out of that sewer and across a gorgeous, polished wood floor until I poked my head out into the blinding light. _Ohhh_ , _fresh air!_ I almost forgot what it smelled like! I stood up and looked around. Man…look at this place! It's _beautiful_! I stood there in awe in the middle of an elegant, well-lit foyer with the most interesting of features: a double staircase with snakeskin carpeting and a tall mechanical door down a tiny, bookcase-lined hallway. …Huh…where's all the furniture? And why's it so quiet in here?

"Uh…Mr. Montgomery?" I called out finally.

Silence…well, except for my echo, anyway.

I looked around again, my heart beginning to pound. No, I'm _not_ afraid, would you quit saying that?! … _Man_ , it was quiet in here. _Too_ quiet. Almost like…Resident Evil quiet…like something was going to jump out at me any minute.

"My parents told me to come here after our house caught fire. Are you here?" I hollered, trying again.

More silence.

Great. First our mansion's on fire and I'm trapped in an underground tunnel system, and now the guy that's supposed to, I don't know, "watch over" me isn't home. What now, zombies gonna sneak up on me and harvest my organs?

Suddenly, a hand gripped my shoulder and I about jumped out of my skin.

Yep.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** **If I** _ **did**_ **own ASOUE, I wouldn't be writing fanfiction. Translation: Me no own it. For once, I did** _ **not**_ **break the vase.**

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"Who are you?" a voice asked from behind.

I swallowed. It didn't sound angry, but it didn't sound permissive of my presence, either. Quickly, I debated the pros and cons of replying and remaining silent. "Uh…not a robber?" I choked finally, my heart pounding in my throat now. Please, God, don't let this guy call the cops on me… I mean, I can fight, but I don't know how long I'd last in jail. _Definitely_ longer than Duncan, that's for sure.

The hand lifted from my shoulder and I turned around to see what I was up against. Before me stood a tall man garbed in a beige suit and black tie, his dark hair slicked back with a gallon of hair gel.

"Uh…are you…Mr. Montgomery?" I asked.

"Me?" The man laughed. "I wish… I'm one of his associates. Name's Jacques. Jacques Snicket. And you are…?"

"Uh…" Oh crap, what's my name?! "Not a robber?"

Jacques laughed again. "That's quite a name you got there, kid," he remarked with a mile-wide grin. "You get made fun of a lot because of it?"

"Oh, you have no idea," I joked, playing along without missing a beat. "Nah, my name's Quigley. Quigley Quagmire."

Jacques's eyebrows rose. "Quagmire…? Are you really?"

"Last I checked, yeah," I said with a shrug.

"I was wondering how you got here. You used the tunnels, didn't you?"

I flinched. _He_ knew about the underground tunnels? "Yeah…how'd you–––?"

"Your parents and I _built_ those tunnels."

It was my eyebrows' turn to rise. He _built_ them? Who was this guy, Mario? "You…know my parents?"

" _Know_ 'em? I _work_ with 'em!" Jacques corrected me proudly. "Raymond and Melanie are some of my closest friends. Go on a lotta missions together."

"Missions?"

"Yeah! Undercover missions, rescue missions, humanitarian missions, all kinds of stuff. Haven't heard from 'em since they'd been abducted and taken to Peru. Are they alright?"

I blinked at him, thunderstruck. So…Father _wasn't_ kidding when he said he broke his leg breaking out of a prison in Peru? That was _real_? And was _that_ why they were gone for so long, was because they were abducted from the dinner party and taken to Peru? Why? What did they do? Why Peru? And these missions Jacques said they went on… _Missions?_ What were they, secret agents? Government officials? Only _they_ went on missions, especially rescue ones. Who _was_ this guy? I mean, Jacques Snicket, of course, but… _who_ was this guy? If he worked with Mother and Father, how come _we_ never knew about him? _Or_ the tunnels? And speaking of work, _where_ did they work exactly? What did they _do_? All this time, Father said he was a pilot and Mother said she was a self-defense instructor. Was that all a lie? Did I really _know_ my parents at all? "Uh…they escaped and made it home, but…uh…"

Jacques tipped his head. "But what?"

I swallowed again, flashing back. "Our mansion caught on fire yesterday and Mother put me in those tunnels while she went to get Duncan and Isadora." I finally looked up at him. "She never came back. Neither did Father. Or my siblings. But, before she left she said if anything happens, find Mr. Montgomery. Our trap door wouldn't budge, so I couldn't get out, so I came here."

Jacques stared at me, and for a moment I could've sworn I heard his heart break. "What?" he whispered faintly, obviously disturbed by what I'd said.

My throat tightening at my reality, I nodded in confirmation. Already tears were coming to my eyes… No! Not now! Not here! Crybaby!

Suddenly, Jacques turned and locked the front door. "Come with me," he said seriously, walking over to the mechanical door down the narrow hall behind me. For some odd reason, I followed. Wait, what am I doing? I've only known this guy for five minutes or so and I was already taking orders from him? _Wow_ was my brain scrambled. But, I kept following him. Something told me to. Maybe he could take me to Mr. Montgomery.

I looked at the numerous gears, levers, and pulleys built into its steel and I about fainted. How were we supposed to get past _that_? Even Fort Knox would be easier to get into than _this_ room. But it didn't faze Jacques one bit. He simply reached out, turned the knob, and pulled it open.

"Wait, that's it?" I asked, dumbfounded. "You just open it?"

Jacques smiled at the look on my face. "Precisely. That was just to fool people into thinking this room was locked down tight."

"But why?" I followed Jacques into an enormous room made entirely out of glass. "What was in here?"

"Dr. Montgomery's reptile collection," Jacques explained, looking around sadly at all the vacant cages covered by sheets. "He had species from all over the world in this very room. He called it the Reptile Room."

"The Reptile Room?" I repeated, looking around with him. That's odd. It looked more like a Reptile _Mausoleum_ than a Reptile Room. "Well, what happened to it?"

"Everything was taken to the Herpetological Society yesterday." Jacques leaned forward on a giant wooden desk, gripping the edge. Slowly, his eyes wandered up to the comfy office chair behind it and his heart tightened. The smell…it was still there, embedded in its fibers, torturing him.

"Wh––– _ugh!_ " I covered my nose, my stomach churning. "What's that smell?"

Jacques sighed deeply. "That, Quigley," he said, turning to face me, "is the smell of Dr. Montgomery's murder."

My eyes widened. "Dr. Montgomery's _dead_?"

"Yes…" Jacques said mournfully. "He was murdered yesterday by Count Olaf, a former associate of ours." He looked back at the chair. "In that very chair."

I followed his gaze to the office chair before me and began to panic. The guy Mother told me to find was _dead_? Oh, God, what was I supposed to do _now_? I couldn't go home, the trap door wouldn't budge. I couldn't stay here, the guy I was supposed to find was murdered… My mind started to reel. Never had I felt so helpless, so alone in my life.

All this time, Jacques had been thinking. About what, I don't know. But judging by the look on his face, I could tell he was extremely conflicted…and _that_ was an understatement. "Quigley," he turned to face me again. "Your parents never told you about what they did, did they?"

"Father told me he was a pilot, and Mother told me she was a self-defense instructor," I recalled, desperately wishing that smell would go away. "Why, were they lying?"

"No, they weren't lying. They were a pilot and self-defense instructor alright…just not in everyday society like you thought they were."

My face scrunched in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"They were a pilot and self-defense instructor for the secret organization we work for: V.F.D.."

My head began to pound. Oh man…I hadn't had a headache like this since that time in math class when I couldn't figure out that story problem. "V.F.D.? What's that?"

"It stands for many things, but when it comes to our secret organization, it stands for Volunteer Fire Department."

"You guys…fight fires?"

"Literally _and_ figuratively," Jacques said with a sly smile.

"How can a fire be figurative?" I asked. I'm so lost.

"Like a dispute between two or more parties. We extinguish actual fires and we extinguish figurative fires, like conflicts."

"Oh." Well, that makes sense. "And you're all volunteers? Nobody gets paid?"

"Exactly. We do what we do for the good of mankind. To make the world a safe, quiet place."

I nodded, mulling over what he'd said. So all this time Mother and Father were part of this secret organization called V.F.D.? Every time they left home, they went to do good things for others? Wow, that's…that's inspirational. …But, why would they hide it from us? If it's such a noble cause, why weren't they touting about it, encouraging others to join? Teaching _us_ about it? It didn't make sense to me.

Jacques stuffed his hands in his pockets and looked off to the side, thinking again. "How would you like to join V.F.D.? I'll be your chaperone," he proposed finally.

"Really?" My heart started to race with excitement. "I'd love to, but, aren't I too young?"

"You're never too young to start," Jacques assured. "Since Dr. Montgomery's dead and your family's M.I.A., I'll take care of you. You're safe with me." He gave me a big, father-like smile.

I smiled back. "Thanks, Mr. Snicket."

"Please, call me Jacques," Jacques insisted warmly. "Mr. Snicket is my father."

"Thanks, Jacques."

We were quiet for a moment. "Well, c'mon, apprentice. We got a lotta work to do." He turned and headed over to the bookcases behind the desk.

"Like what?" I asked, following him.

"We need to find the Baudelaires. And fast."


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** **'** **Sup everybody?! Hope y'all are havin' some fun out there with this story (as well as my others, if you've read 'em). Seriously, just you guys reading my stuff makes my day more than y'all know. I'm always trying to get better, and I pray my stories get better and better each time I post. So, if I start slippin', lemme know, yeah? Brain bleach is** _ **expensive**_ **, and I don't want yas to destroy your beautiful brain cells (or your wallets). We need to outnumber the idiots, yeah? Humanity depends on it. Lol. Anyway, ramblin' aside, gotta thank all my awesome reviewers out there:** _BookProtector_ **,** _Guest_ **. You rock, guys! :) \m/**

 **.**

 _BookProtector __––– Thanks! :)  
_

 _Guest_ _––– Ya like the first one better, huh? I honestly thought it was so boring that nobody would get behind it. Wanted to add more spice, make it more interesting (for everyone else_ and _myself)_ , _that's why I changed it. Guess I was wrong. :/ ...Y'know, now that I think about what you said, you're right: if he ain't street-smart, he won't know what to do to get out of situations, thus making his situation more suspenseful, dangerous. You_ are _right. How did I not see that the first time? That's genius._ _...Well, live and learn, yeah? Thanks again for your input._ _:) \m/_

 **.**

 **P.S.: Shoutout to **_The Snicket Sleuth_ **, wherever they may be. If it weren't for their** "Is Quigley Quagmire a Liar?" **theory online, three quarters of this story wouldn't exist. Their take on Quigley's character was very intriguing and I kinda wanted to expand on this, using their theory as inspiration. So again, shoutout to you too, man! Thanks for taking my mind on this amazing journey! ;) \m/**

 **Disclaimer:** **Still don't own ASOUE. …Can someone** _ **please**_ **clean up this vase? I ain't goin' to the ER for a cut foot, and I highly doubt you wanna, either. -_-**

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Chapter 4  
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My brow furrowed in thought. "The Baudelaires?" I repeated. Why did that name sound so familiar?

Jacques reached into his inside blazer pocket and pulled out a three by five colored picture of three people huddled on Damocles Dock, two of which looked about my age, the other one a baby. "These three right here," he clarified, holding it out for me to see. "Have you seen them by chance?"

I took the hint in my hand and studied it closely. "No," I admitted apologetically, handing it back to him. "But, the name's familiar, though."

"The Baudelaires are my other closest friends," Jacques explained. "In fact, they were the heads of V.F.D.. We worked under them."

Were? "What happened to 'em?" I asked.

Jacques sighed, remaining silent for what felt like forever. "They were killed some time ago. The same thing that happened to you happened to their children: their mansion caught fire, but killed their parents in the process. Since then, it's been a nonstop nightmare for them: all their guardians were murdered, both Dr. Montgomery and Josephine Anwhistle, and last I heard, they'd run away from Lake Lachrymose. No one knows where they are."

Wow…and I thought _I_ had it bad. "Why do need to find 'em?"

"There's a sugar bowl V.F.D. entrusted to me, filled with important information, and I absolutely _need_ them to get to it before the enemy does." Jacques turned around and examined the shelves' contents. "But before I can find 'em I need to find a certain file Dr. Montgomery has in his library. And I only have a few days to do so."

"What's the name of it?"

"I'm not sure…but I'll know it's the file when I read it." He studied a couple spines on the middle shelf before grabbing three books and heading toward the door of the Reptile Room. **  
**

"Where you going?" I called.

"Upstairs," Jacques hollered over his shoulder. "I'm sorry but I can't work with the smell of death in my nose."

I watched him exit and heard him climb the staircase. …Well, I can't just stand here and do nothing. I _am_ his apprentice now. I gotta help _somehow_. I walked over to the bookcase and about puked. Jacques was right: there was _no way_ anyone could get work done in here without throwing up all over the place. I held my breath and examined my options. …Ugh, all of these books looked _boring_. I couldn't read _these_! Only Donuts would be patient enough to read all these. Maybe even Isadora. Hmm…I wonder if Dr. Montgomery has any books on cartography…

I looked around for any other bookcases, the one in front of me about as helpful as an air conditioner in winter. I sighed in disappointment. Nothing. _Nothing_ was in here but that _one_ bookcase. Seriously? He had to have a map of _something_ in here, even if it _was_ just the city. I took another deep breath and began rummaging around Dr. Montgomery's desk drawers. Nothing. Absolutely _nothing_ was in here, even a rogue paper clip. I groaned. …Well, there had to be a map in this house _somewhere_. I've never known anybody that _didn't_ have one. One way or another, I was going to find one.

I walked out of the Reptile Room and began scouring every inch of the first floor. After about fifteen minutes, my results came back the same: nothing. I mean, I know Dr. Montgomery's dead, he won't need his possessions anymore, but still. If they left his library alone, they had to have left something _else_ alone, right? I trudged up the stairs, hoping this level would be a different story. But when I reached the top, I stopped. All of a sudden, I found myself flashing back to the fire. Donuts…Isadora…Mother and Father… I hope they're okay. Maybe Jacques could help me find them after this file search we're doing. With as much as I wanted to go and find them, _technically_ they could wait. _Technically_. I had my whole life to find them, the file, however, we were on a deadline. A stricken deadline.

Just then, an ear-piercing screech scared me out of my skin and I about tumbled down the stairs. Terrified, I looked around wildly for what was responsible for my premature death.

"Screeching Iguana clock," I heard Jacques shout, as if reading my mind.

I looked up to find a cuckoo-clock hanging on the wall, but instead of a bird stretching out to signify each hour, a fearsome-looking iguana had taken its place, maybe even eaten it. Shaking my head, I resumed walking. How could I _possibly_ be scared of a cuckoo-clock? God, Quigley, get ahold of yourself! Idiot…

"Ugh, where is it?" Jacques muttered from around the corner.

I walked into the room he was in and watched as he practically tore up the place looking for something. "What's wrong, Jacques?" I asked.

"My commonplace book. I lost it," Jacques managed to say, looking under the bed.

"You can use mine," I offered, taking my notebook out of my sweatshirt pocket and handing it to him.

"Thank you, Quigley. I appreciate the gesture," Jacques smiled at me briefly, then resumed his search. "But I need to find mine. It has lots of important information in it and I can't afford for it to fall into the wrong hands."

Important information? What did he have in there, nuclear codes?

Jacques growled in frustration. "Don't tell me I left it at the Baudelaire ruins…" he grumbled, getting up from the floor.

"Where are you going?" I asked, watching him exit and hurry down the stairs.

"To find my commonplace book," Jacques replied. He bent down and flung up the rug obscuring the trap door I'd come out of a bit ago.

"I'll help," I said, following him.

"No, you wait here. It's too dangerous," he instructed, unlatching the trap door and carefully stepping onto the ladder. "Don't worry, I'll be back. Just keep researching." With that, he closed the trap door and the house was uncomfortably silent once again.

I sighed, looking around. Well, I guess back to what I was doing, then. I walked back in the small bedroom and resumed my search. Another fifteen minutes went by, and much to my dismay, there was nothing on this floor either. Ugh… _seriously_?! Who doesn't have a map around here?! I folded my arms and pouted. Just when I thought I could get out of reading those books… With a growl, I headed back into the bedroom Jacques had set up camp in and flopped down at the table he'd set his books on. Scowling, I examined the spines of the three. Now that I think about it, I didn't even get to look at these ones. Jacques had chosen them before I even got a glimpse at Dr. Montgomery's bookshelf. Curious, I got up and walked around to his spot to investigate. _Various Features Decoded_ was the first selection, a plain black book consisting of a million murdered trees. I slid it off to the side, unimpressed. The next was a book half its size, dark green like Duncan's notebook, but was heavily tattered and stained with dirt and…something red––– _dirty_ red. Though it was bereft of a title, it _did_ have the letters V.F.D. spray painted on the cover in black. Hmm… _this_ one looks interesting…

I picked up the book and began flipping through the faded, frayed pages. …What?! No map? Oh, come on! I tossed it on top of the other book and looked at the last one. Smaller in tree murders than the other two, this book had a picture of the sun setting behind the Mortmain Mountains on it, the title in fancy gold script. " _Remarkable Phenomena of the Mortmain Mountains_ ," I read aloud. I was about to toss it to the side when something in its pages caught my eye. Wedged in the center of its contents was a faded, frayed piece of paper, folded up neatly into thirds. My face scrunched in puzzlement, I opened the book to where the paper was and took it out. Wonder what this is––– _oh my God it's a map! It's a map!_ My heart celebrating harder than people on New Year's Eve, I shoved the paper back in the book and tucked the book under my arm–––wait! What if Jacques came back and found it was missing? I had to replace the vacant spot!

I hurried down to the Reptile Room for a candidate worthy of replacement. Quickly, I looked for a book about the same size and color. Uhh…oh God, where _is_ one? Uhh–––there! On the far right of the bottom shelf was the Duncan to my Quigley problem. I set _Remarkable Phenomena of the Mortmain Mountains_ down on Dr. Montgomery's desk, snatched its doppelgänger, and zoomed back upstairs. I surveyed my work, praying I had covered my tracks well…and that Jacques hadn't memorized the names of the books he'd selected. My heart thumping with excitement (and shame for what I'd done), I retreated to the Reptile Room and shut the door behind me, ready to commence my research. Don't worry, I'll give it back to him when I'm finished, I promise.

Now to finish that map I was working on before the fire…

* * *

/

* * *

"Quigley?" a voice called softly, warmly, something shaking me lightly.

Startled out of my mind, I jerked awake, looking around wildly.

"Sorry to wake you." Jacques smiled down apologetically at me. "I just wanted to let you know breakfast is ready. How's your research coming?"

I blinked at him for a moment, trying to wake up. Breakfast? What? It was already the next day? Had I really slept _that_ long? "Uhh…good," I answered slowly, tiredly. "How's yours? Did you find your commonplace book?"

"Yes, I did, thankfully." Jacques dug around in his blazer pocket and took out a notebook identical to mine, only his had a red cover. "So…" He tucked it back in its rightful place and looked at me. "What have you found?"

"Uhh…" Blushing, I looked down at my homemade map, which was about three quarters the way done. "Just…working on a map I found."

"A map?" Jacques eyebrows rose, intrigued. "Of what?"

"Oh, just the city," I lied casually, my blush worsening. "Been meaning to make one for awhile now."

"Oh." He leaned forward and examined my handiwork for a moment. "I must say, I'm impressed. I haven't seen one so intricately drawn for a long, long time. You're quite the cartographer."

"Oh, uh…thanks," I said. "It's a passion of mine."

"It shows."

" _Caw!_ " _Tink tink!_

Jacques and I looked up to find a lone crow perched atop the Reptile Room's glass roof, a long, tightly rolled parcel bound to its leg.

"Ah, newpaper's here," Jacques smiled up at him and headed over to the glass door on the side. The crow took flight and soared gracefully down to a thick wooden perch sticking out of the ground by the door. Wait…he had a carrier _crow_? Pigeons, sure, but…a _crow_? I _had_ to see this. I got up and walked over to Jacques, who was already untying the parcel from the bird's leg.

"Thank you, Hermes," Jacques said gratefully.

" _Caw!_ " the crow squawked loudly. His tiny, beady eyes blinked at him expectantly for a quiet moment. " _Caw! Caw!_ "

"Of _course_ I didn't forget your payment." Jacques reached into his left blazer pocket and took out a small square of bread. He handed it to Hermes, and the crow politely took it in its beak and flew off into the sunrise.

I watched the bird disappear into the distance, then looked at Jacques, my eyebrows rising in astonishment. "You have a carrier _crow_?" I breathed.

"Mm hm," Jacques answered. "V.F.D. has _many_ ways of communication, not just the phone." He unrolled the latest issue of _The Daily Punctilio_ and read the headline. Just then, his face fell. "Quigley, meet me in the kitchen."

"Why? What's wrong?" I asked, watching him walk back inside.

With a hesitant sigh, he turned around and showed me the front page. Above the giant picture of what I realized was our mansion was the murder weapon of my sanity:

 **OFFICIAL FIRE DEPARTMENT CONCLUDES: QUAGMIRE FIRE AN ACCIDENT, PARENTS PERISH**


End file.
